


Coming Home

by PhantomWarrior99



Category: Destiny (Video Games)
Genre: Cayde-6 Feels (Destiny), F/M, In Memory of Cayde-6 (Destiny), Mentioned Cayde-6 (Destiny)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-10
Updated: 2021-01-10
Packaged: 2021-03-13 19:14:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,773
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28658550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PhantomWarrior99/pseuds/PhantomWarrior99
Summary: Someone had to be there when she got back to pick up the pieces when she finally shattered, she's glad it's him.
Relationships: Female Guardian/Shaxx (Destiny)
Kudos: 21





	Coming Home

It's done.

Uldren Sov is dead. His barons, destroyed. Riven, defeated.

She can finally rest, and by the Traveler, she needs it. The Young Wolf shuffles into her quarters - well, _Lord Shaxx's_ quarters. It's where she stays between assignments and the only place she wants to be right now.

When she steps inside, she carefully removes her cloak, gently folding it up and depositing it on the only chair in the room. Her fingers linger on the Ace sewn into the dark material, a tired smile - a pang of guilt - and she closes her eyes for the briefest of moments. It takes all her strength to unholster the Ace of Spades.

It's heavy in her hands - whether it's the exhaustion or the weight of reality, she isn't certain. Cayde-6 is gone. She's holding his gun. It's too heavy. It's—

She's crying. She watches as a single tear threads it's way along the barrel of the hand cannon. When had she started? She scrubs angrily at the tear streaks, trying to unblur her vision. Her grip on the weapon tightens as she sags into the chair, silent sobs wracking her frame as she clutches the Ace fo Spades to her chest.

Cayde-6 is gone. She couldn't save him. Cayde-6 is gone. She avenged him. He'd be proud, right?

 _You did all you could, Guardian._ Ghost materializes before her, nudging her arm lightly, _It'll be alright._

"I—“ _miss him_.

The words die on her tongue but her companion seems to understand as he floats up near her face, pressing against her cheek gently in the only manner he can comfort her.

_I know. I'm sorry._

They stay there for what feels like an eternity until her tears run dry and she reaches up with one feeble hand, patting his shell with trembling fingers.

_Let's get you cleaned up. You've been pushing yourself pretty hard. You'll feel better after you sleep._

She offers little more than a numb nod as he dissipates beneath her touch. He's done it before, but now? Now it feels different - she can almost imagine what it would be like if he were to end up like Sundance. It's an image she dearly wishes she could shake, but she can't linger on it, not right now. So, as she struggles like hell to maintain some semblance of her dwindling composure, she strips her armor off, depositing the bloodied, dirty plates in the corner to be cleaned in the morning and makes her way to the shower.

By the time she steps inside, she registers the muffled whoosh of the quarters' door and the heavy steps of the room's owner.

 _Sounds like Lord Shaxx is back._ Ghost remarks without materializing.

The Young Wolf only nods, turning back to scrubbing the dirt from her hand. How it had gotten under her glove, she doesn't know. But she's too tired to question it.

She listens to the faint movements outside the bathroom, no doubt the Titan's efforts to straighten up, perhaps tend to her filthy armor as he does so often after long assignments. It's his way of doting on her when he sees her so rarely. It's sweet and she appreciates it more than he could ever know.

The minutes pass in a blur, idly listening to Shaxx move about before she shuts off the water and grabs a towel. It's Titan-sized and her Hunter-sized frame practically swims in it. She winds it around herself three times and holds the end tightly as she opens the door.

She must have been in there longer than she thought. Her armor sits clean in the corner, a steaming bowl of spicy ramen sets on the table by the bed with a large cup of water. Tired eyes move from the food to the Titan staring quietly at the weapon atop her cloak.

She doesn't remember placing it there.

"He's really gone," he says softly.

She looks down, almost ashamed and it draws his attention. She hears him approach, feels his strong arms pull her close. He's still in his armor, still battle-ready but she doesn't need a battle right now. She needs her Titan.

She's never needed a protector, but in that moment, as she lays her head on his chest, she feels fragile beneath his touch as if she'll crumble at any moment. Though, despite everything, she's safe. Nothing can hurt her as long as he holds her. She can't describe it - the soft brush of his thumb over exposed skin. The tenderness that is his touch - so firm and yet so gentle. In his arms, she is invincible. In his arms, she is home.

So when she does crumble, the towering Titan gingerly picks her up, carrying her over to the bed and takes a seat with her in his lap. Her fingers latch onto his chest plate, the fur along his shoulders tickle her nose but she makes no move to pull away. He leans his head against the top of hers, always so gentle in the way he clutches her against his chest.

He'll hold her together. As she crumbles, he'll pick up the pieces and he'll build her up stronger than before.

"It's alright, my little Hunter. It's going to be alright."

"Couldn't save him." She whispers feebly.

"No. Cayde is gone. But so is Uldren Sov. And that, my little Hunter, is what matters. You've avenged your friend and now you wield his weapon with the same regal and pride he did."

She can't help but scoff at the mention of _regal_ in relation to anything associated with Cayde-6, he'd abhor the term, despite its merit as a praise. She blinks back the tears, wiping away the few that escaped before she looks up at him.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome."

She can't see his features beyond his visor but she knows he's smiling that same soft, affectionate smile that lulls her to composure every time. He is her anchor. He is the only thing that keeps her grounded and she knows it. He is home - and for a Hunter, that means the world to her.

She offers a shadow of a smile, subtle twitch to the corner of her mouth as he tucks a strand of soaked hair away from her face. She realized she never tried to dry it in her rush to see him.

"You need to eat," he nods to the bowl on the bedside stand and she snaps to from her daze.

He stands before leaning down and gently sets her on the mattress. "I'll get you some clothes," he assures her softly after handing her the bowl and a utensil.

She nods quietly, inclining her head ever so slightly as he straightens up and moves to the closet. She watches silently as he grabs one of his shirts and a pair of her shorts before returning to her side, laying the clothes on the blanket next to her.

He lingers for a moment, reaching out to gently cradle her cheek and her head leans into his touch. It's soothing and warm even through the rough leather of his glove.

"I'll be back soon, I have a few things to attend to," he brushes his thumb along her skin and her eyes flicker up to his helmet, a shadow of concern glinting among exhaustion. "Rest, my little Hunter. You've earned it."

She offers little more than a slight nod before he pulls back and she already longs for his touch, lurching ever so slightly forward as if to prolong the fraction of contact before it's gone altogether. She watches him stride towards the door, pausing and looking back at her with a nod, "I'll be back." And then he's gone.

It's another weighted minute before she drags her gaze from the door to the bowl in her hands. It's so warm, warding off the chill that threatens to sing along her spine - when did she become cold? She looks down at the clothes beside her with disinterest. She doesn't want to eat or move. She just wants to curl up and let Shaxx hold her.

But he'll be back, he _always_ comes back and he'll expect her to have eaten and to be dressed. It's either that or he'll fret and she hates to worry him.

So, she sets the bowl aside reluctantly, carefully getting to her feet and tugs his massive shirt over her head. It billows and hangs looser than any dress she's ever seen, but it's comfortable and smells faintly of him. It draws a tired smile to the corner of her lips as she finishes getting dressed and deposits the towel in a basket before climbing under the covers. The Young Wolf picks up the bowl, its warmth flourishing across trembling fingertips. A deep breath settles her frazzled nerves and she can finally begins to eat, all while aware of the approving hum from Ghost in the back of her mind.

Somewhere along the line, she finishes the bowl, leaving it on the dresser and she slides further under the blankets until her head settles on the soft pillow. It's then that she hears the door open again and Shaxx's heavy footsteps fill the room.

"Guardian--" he falls silent when he sees her under the blankets but she rolls onto her back all the same. "You ate, good. Just a moment," he disappears into the bathroom to change, emerging with just his helmet on and she snorts softly in amusement. Her gaze follows him as he leaves his armor beside her freshly cleaned and substantially smaller plates before he removes his helmet and shuts off the lights. It's always the last thing to go, every night - it never ceases to amuse her.

When the bed dips beneath his weight, her attention is drawn back to the towering Titan settling in beside her. He opens his arms and almost immediately, she's curled up against him, burying her face in his chest. She's never been this vulnerable around anyone but Ghost and yet, it doesn't seem to faze the Warlord as he rubs small circles along her shoulder, pressing the softest of kisses into her damp hair.

"Rest," he encourages softly and at last, she allows heavy eyelids to sag shut, though her hand clenches into a fist as she clings to him. "It's alright," he whispers soothingly, taking her hand in his, brushing the pad of his thumb along her knuckles until her fingers slacken and her breathing evens out.

"The weight of the world was on your shoulders, and still you triumphed. I am proud of you, my little Hunter. Rest well."

\-------------------------


End file.
